


Stay

by Withstarryeyes



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anniversary, Anniversary of Stiles' Mom's death, Based on a Rihanna song, Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pre-Slash, Stiles-centric, Unofficial Sterek, sterek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-26
Updated: 2017-07-26
Packaged: 2018-12-07 10:05:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11621328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Withstarryeyes/pseuds/Withstarryeyes
Summary: Tears slide down his cheeks freely and Stiles hiccups, grasping blades of grass in his hand, cutting his palm as he clenches. His feet slide on the dirt, further and further until he’s flat on his back, tears causing traffic in his throat, his breathing more and more garbled.He opens his eyes, shuts off his ears and there’s just silence. Silence as the stars shine on, the moonlight casting soft, romantic shadows on his cheekbones from his lashes.He hears a slight shuffle, a broken twig, a breath that doesn’t match his own and Stiles wipes a lethargic hand over his eyes.





	Stay

Stiles sighs, his legs outstretched over a small cliff. The city lights twinkle up from below, behind him are the dark, empty woods that howl and screech and promise a grave, early death.

He closes his eyes, opens his ears, and sits. It’s nice to be in a place, alone with his thoughts, that is silent and noisy at once. There are no cars, no voices, no mundane, ordinary sounds that crash against his ears all day and fill up his brain at night. No, here are the magic whispers of things forgotten. There’s a light tinkle of crickets, a small orchestra of running water, there’s the loud melody of frogs off to the side, there’s his breathing and his heart beat.

Tears slide down his cheeks freely and Stiles hiccups, grasping blades of grass in his hand, cutting his palm as he clenches. His feet slide on the dirt, further and further until he’s flat on his back, tears causing traffic in his throat, his breathing more and more garbled.

He opens his eyes, shuts off his ears and there’s just silence. Silence as the stars shine on, the moonlight casting soft, romantic shadows on his cheekbones from his lashes.

He hears a slight shuffle, a broken twig, a breath that doesn’t match his own and Stiles wipes a lethargic hand over his eyes.

“You know it’s really creepy when you just watch me,” Stiles bites out but the venom isn’t there, it’s just a pitiful noise coming from a cracked throat.

Derek steps out of the shadows, he’s in a dark Henley and dark jeans and a dark trench coat because damn humanity if they can’t figure out that Derek is _dark_. His eyes look soft, though, and Stiles sighs again, a little bit unnerved that Derek can find him wherever he is. It’s nice too. To be found. By someone Stiles likes very much.

A breeze picks up and Stiles shivers, curling more into himself. A weight falls onto his shoulders, fabric brushing Stiles’ fingertips. He knows not to mention the coat to Derek.

The first rule of Derek being nice is you don’t talk about Derek being nice.

“What’s wrong with you?” Derek bites out and if he wasn’t peering over the city, too far away for Stiles to reach him, he’d think Derek cared.

“Nothing,” Stiles mumbles, circling fingers on his palm. It’s not untrue, there’s nothing wrong with him, nothing. He’s just...remembering and remembering hurts.

“I checked the cemetery first,” Derek admits and Stiles hangs his head. Derek knew, he was just being polite. Derek did that a lot. Nobody believed Stiles when he defended Derek, when he told them to look past the red eyes, the growling, the claws that Derek slashed with. Underneath all that was a person, a person who had lost his family.

Stiles understood that, and maybe Derek picked up on that because he’d started to be kinder to him. Started to get to know him. Sure he still teased and demeaned but it was so less cruel when he gave Stiles his coat and when Stiles would wake up from a nightmare to feel the breeze coming from his window, the brief flash of red before he heard footsteps speeding into the night.

Derek was nice, and Stiles knew it.

He feels someone press into his arm and Stiles lays his head down on Derek’s shoulder, fingers moving to tangle through his hair, Derek places a kiss on the crown of his forehead.

“Do you want to be alone?” He asks. Stiles crawls into Derek’s lap, pressing his nose into his collarbone.

“No, I want you to stay,” Stiles says and Derek nods.

Stiles doesn’t know how to feel about this. There’s a spark between him and Derek, a mutual protectiveness, a mutual pact. They’ve never been defined, never gone to the movies with too big a popcorn and too much awkward tension between them. They’ve never danced together at prom. They’ve never told each other that they loved the other. They’ve never called each other "boyfriend".

But, Stiles knew, they were _something._ Because Stiles would die for Derek and in return Derek would stay for Stiles. He’d stay out of trouble, he’d stay to protect Stiles, he’d _stay._ For someone so capable of running, it meant a lot.

“I miss her,” he admits and Derek breaks out a melancholy smile.

“You always do,” Derek replies, scooping Stiles up and depositing him in his car. The heat’s on and for once Stiles can feel his fingers again. The radio turns on but it’s soft and Stiles feels his eyes droop, he’s tired.

“Sleep, I’ll get you home.” Stiles nods. He knows Derek will.

Stiles hasn’t known many people to stay, Derek is one of them. His eyes close and unlike so many other years on this very day, the image of his dying mom isn’t on the back of his eyelids. Instead there’s Derek’s coat on his shoulders and his sad, comforting smile. It’s nice.

**Author's Note:**

> I hoped you liked this fic, I wanted to explore a pre-realtionship for these two. If you enjoyed please leave a comment or a kudos and maybe I'll write more for this fandom. 
> 
> Much love,  
> C


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